FUEL anthology publication day!
1 year ago
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
I've been pondering the disappearance of culture.
As a child, my mother told me stories. She told me all the stories. On quiet days, near sunset, I remember going into her room. She would pull out her jewelry box and we would go through each piece. The jewels became anchors for me. Little shiny bits of the past. Each having its own tale to tell. Things are like that. Trees and rocks and land are like that. It's never been a stretch for me to see the souls of the inanimate.
I'm not sure how Mother knew that I had the memory to hold all of these things. I'm certain she did not suspect those stories would end with me, since I have no small ones to whisper the histories to. No small ones to sing the old songs to. I write to leave them here--but honestly, most of that knowledge will die with me. There was just so much of it, you see.
I see the same thing all around me here. But it's a willful death caused by the dearth of close listeners. I didn't realize I was special. I never thought myself so. But I must be, for I don't see many willing to hold the stories in their souls--to bear that responsibility. Jimmy is like me. I think that's why we get along so well. But we are unusual people.
It's not an evil thing--it just is. The lore written down by the Firefox project in the 1960s is for the most part, extinct knowledge. It is now the stuff of legend and no longer recognized and practiced. The generation following that generation kept much of that lore--but much of it is still strange to them. That generation is in their 70's and 80's now. Those of my generation hold even less of the knowledge and it is fuzzy. The youngsters are caught up in the modern world in a way that makes it difficult to imagine or incorporate the old stories. This is how culture dies. It fades away like a lost god weeping for worship.
This is sad, I think. I so admire Japanese culture for its ability to keep old and new together. I think we could use a bit of that reverence.
If you have little ones, consider spending some quiet time--away from the soccer practice, away from the sports and all the things that make this life so hectic--and curling up in a dim room with the relics of your past to tell the stories. Pass on the lore. Honor the ancestors.
Labels: culture
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Living so far from town like we do, when the grands are only distracted by nature when they are here.
Bless you Rosie.....
Then I found stories, and I learned to tell them. You are a natural storyteller, Rosie. Have you ever considered doing it for schools, libraries and festivals? Children lap them up, and so do adults. I just got home from telling stories at a library and three schools. At each place the children were lively, interested and wonderful listeners. They know how to listen--we just need more people telling the stories and singing the old songs.
(nice side benefit--I get paid for it).
Why?
I found out from an old neighbor that my dad had a pet crow (Jimmy) that used to steal shiny objects from around the neighborhood and hide them in his nest.
Why didn't my dad ever tell me?
I was pissed.
My kids and my niece and nephews know ALL KINDS of stories.
My heart jumps every time they ask me to tell one because I know that means that they're special to them too and will surely be passed down to their kids/grandkids.
You are the queen though.
Please keep it up.
My Sunday morning routine is:
1. up with the sun
2. big mug of tea
3. turn on computer and read Rosie.
4. relax and enjoy
I highly recommend it folks.
there's an awesome book i read, maybe 10 years ago called 'kitchen table wisdom'. it's in part about the necessity of telling stories, so we know where we come from. i've been meaning to tell you about it for ages...